 | The poetical works of Lucy Larcom |  |
AT NORTON AGAIN.
FOR A REUNION AT WHEATON SEMINARY, NORTON, MASS.
We heard your friendly summoning, we heard your call, “Come back!”
And memory rose and hastened down the old familiar track
Among the Norton meadows, where the violets shone through dew,
And the tears of autumn lay like pearls upon the gentian's blue.
And memory rose and hastened down the old familiar track
Among the Norton meadows, where the violets shone through dew,
And the tears of autumn lay like pearls upon the gentian's blue.
We heard the orioles singing in the elm trees' shadowy height,
And the carol of the robin pierced the golden morning light;
And voices sweeter than the birds', and eyes of heavenlier blue
Than the gentian's, or the violet's, around us softly drew.
And the carol of the robin pierced the golden morning light;
And voices sweeter than the birds', and eyes of heavenlier blue
Than the gentian's, or the violet's, around us softly drew.
Oh, we were happier than we guessed; dearer than tongue or pen
Can paint it, was the love that flowed around our pathway then;
A spring unsullied, welling out of girlhood's trustful heart,
That held a teacher's blessing as the love of God a part!
Can paint it, was the love that flowed around our pathway then;
A spring unsullied, welling out of girlhood's trustful heart,
That held a teacher's blessing as the love of God a part!
A flitting footstep in the hall—a low rap at the door—
A white brow leans, a dark eye droops, against our knee once more;
And gentle fancies, such as hide in hearts of dreaming girls,
Float up in music from shy lips beneath a veil of curls.
A white brow leans, a dark eye droops, against our knee once more;
And gentle fancies, such as hide in hearts of dreaming girls,
Float up in music from shy lips beneath a veil of curls.
We pace the cool verandah, with the hand of one in ours
Whose heart unfolds with holy hopes, pure as the breath of flowers
In twilight and in dewfall; the sanctity of truth
Blooms lovelier through the whiteness of a maiden's unsoiled youth.
Whose heart unfolds with holy hopes, pure as the breath of flowers
In twilight and in dewfall; the sanctity of truth
Blooms lovelier through the whiteness of a maiden's unsoiled youth.
We look again:—they are not here; young countenances strange
Smile on us from their places: the bewildering touch of change
Has fallen on every one of us; and those familiar feet,—
On through what unknown avenues move they in passage fleet?
Smile on us from their places: the bewildering touch of change
Has fallen on every one of us; and those familiar feet,—
On through what unknown avenues move they in passage fleet?
Under what trees of Eden do our beloved walk?
What angels bear them company in high and friendly talk?
What wisdom of the immortals do those souls illumed explore,
That need the counsel and the help of our weak hearts no more?
What angels bear them company in high and friendly talk?
What wisdom of the immortals do those souls illumed explore,
That need the counsel and the help of our weak hearts no more?
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Oh, friends, dear eyes you see not shine upon us everywhere;
Faces beam downward, beckoning from balustrade and stair
Behind these other faces, as beautiful to-day
With youth and hope and girlhood's dreams as those long passed away.
Faces beam downward, beckoning from balustrade and stair
Behind these other faces, as beautiful to-day
With youth and hope and girlhood's dreams as those long passed away.
These corridors are echoing with many a well-known name:
Our “Alice”—“Mary”—“Sarah”—alas! are not the same
That answer to the summons now; once through the open door
They heard a call, they answered it, and they return no more.
Our “Alice”—“Mary”—“Sarah”—alas! are not the same
That answer to the summons now; once through the open door
They heard a call, they answered it, and they return no more.
It is in vain; we never can come back to anything;
All joy, all loveliness of earth, is caught upon the wing.
Flown on into the unseen heavens, our birds of Paradise
Sing of the eternal summits to which we must arise.
All joy, all loveliness of earth, is caught upon the wing.
Flown on into the unseen heavens, our birds of Paradise
Sing of the eternal summits to which we must arise.
The pleasant woods remain, the birds, the meadows, and the flowers;
They only lack the sweetness of those well-remembered hours.
From the deep heavens they throb toward us, the hearts for whom we yearn;
And we at last shall go to them who never can return.
They only lack the sweetness of those well-remembered hours.
From the deep heavens they throb toward us, the hearts for whom we yearn;
And we at last shall go to them who never can return.
It may be that they pause to-day upon the golden floor;
It may be that they hither gaze through some celestial door
Along the heavenly stairway, to meet our longing love,
And whisper of reunion sweet in light and life above.
It may be that they hither gaze through some celestial door
Along the heavenly stairway, to meet our longing love,
And whisper of reunion sweet in light and life above.
In God's great school of destiny, there is no going back;
They are become our teachers now; down from the shining track
They reach, to lead us up to heights of wisdom they have won:—
We take their hands we climb the stair; and with them we go on.
They are become our teachers now; down from the shining track
They reach, to lead us up to heights of wisdom they have won:—
We take their hands we climb the stair; and with them we go on.
| The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | |